Themes in Final Fantasy 7 and 8

by Ben Ford

Trying to save a world teetering on the brink of utter obliteration? Take some tips from the seasoned veterans of Final Fantasy 7 or Final Fantasy 8, who have been there and done that all before. But make sure to keep your stories straight; you might run across some conflicting information as they recount their heroic exploits. While Final Fantasy 7 and Final Fantasy 8 both serve up epic tales of grandeur, the styles through which the tales are told differ greatly.

Final Fantasy 7 brings the world of Final Fantasy to a new era of technological advancement, opening with a covert infiltration of a giant reactor, whose single purpose is to drain the planet of its most valuable natural resource, Mako energy. The "eco-terrorist" team of Cloud, Barret, Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie - who comprise five of the six members of Avalanche - brave the precarious heights and hazardously narrow catwalks of the reactor's seething abdomen to reach its core, which they proceed to blow up in dramatic Hollywood fashion, escaping the incinerating heat of the detonation with mere seconds to spare.

As what could be considered a prologue to the actual adventure progresses, Midgar, a monstrous megalopolis, unfolds before Cloud. Midgar retains the pretense of a democracy, in which city officials are nominated and elected and serve out their terms; however, in reality, the ruthless Shin-Ra corporation holds all of the power, maintaining all public facilities and services and dictating all of the programs financed by the government. As a consequence, Midgar's destitute suffer unnoticed below the massive plates that serve to elevate the aristocratic elite above the squalor. Those fortunate and wealthy enough to have secured a spot above are surrounded by technology founded on Mako energy - much of which is more advanced than any modern conveniences to be found here on Earth. Midgar's eight reactors, encircling the city, churn unendingly to produce more Mako for public consumption, and due to the byproducts of these processes, the air around the city is heavy with an faux nocturnal envelope; the thick, noxious smoke betrays no hint of the sun or moon. The city is thick with technology, choking on it, oozing with it as it throbs to the beat of "progress."

Once free of the microcosmic wasteland, however, the party encounters a world whose technological progress is shockingly primitive relative to the advancements of Midgarian society - except in those places where Shin-Ra has conveniently installed technological advancement, of course. The world is severely disjointed, as peaceful, agrarian societies whose technology extends no further than toilets and toasters, foster looming Mako reactors and Shin-Ra military equipment capable of leveling those societies within seconds. Advanced technology juts in unnatural patches throughout the world, each ominously looming reactor more of an eyesore than the last.

Even in the face of this abundant technology, though, Final Fantasy 8's world eclipses Final Fantasy 7's with ease; however, it does so with a decidedly different purpose. Opening with slightly more repose, the first area unfolds to expose a habitation nearly as massive as Midgar; this, however, is not a giant city, merely a university of sorts for aspiring soldiers known as SeeDs. This enormous school, known as Balamb Garden, is ripe with technology, from the endless rows of computer terminals to the hovering platforms to the machinery associated with its unique mobility; giant turbines paired with magical energy give the school the ability to lift off from the earth and float indeterminate distances, which is necessary, for example, when the school must be converted into a mobile battleground.

Following the short introduction to Balamb Garden and the basic mechanics of the game, the action takes a drastic stride forward. Squall, Quistis, Zell, and Selphie - aspiring members of the garden - are assigned to a mission in Dollet, an average coastal community with average, peaceful folk, who happen to be under siege by the Galbadian Army. Galbadia is trying to secure the giant radio tower on the outskirts of town, and has placed the entire town under martial law. As the party forces their way into the city through an onslaught of Galbadian soldiers, citizens flee around them desperately, through streets littered with wrecked scrap metal and crushed automobiles. Amidst the chaos, the town can be described as anything but primitive. Even a relatively small town such as Dollet is host to technology of all sorts, including its soaring radio tower.

Such technological thoroughness is common practice in the world of Final Fantasy 8 (except in the backwater settlement of Winhill, whose technologically paralyzed state suggests a total isolation from the rest of the world); from the awkward amalgam of technology and aging majesty in Deling City to the elaborate system of trains intersecting Timber and its outlying areas to the unfathomable complexity of the intercontinental bridge's midpoint, Fisherman's Horizon, to the awe-inspiring intricacy of the Galbadian and Trabian Gardens, it is an inescapable element in every society. And toppling all of this in a single stroke is the city of Esthar, whose nearly impregnable walls, once breached, contain the most mind-numbingly vast and advanced society in the history of video games (imagine the size and technology of Midgar, then multiply it by about 20 or so). Additionally, Esthar has developed massive facilities throughout the continent, which serve as laboratories and even a ground control facility for a space-launch program - which, of course, sets the stage for the party's journey into space and eventual recovery of an abandoned space shuttle known as the Ragnarok.

Oftentimes such an element of technology sets a cold, lifeless backdrop against which the game is forced into introspection, examining characters and their interpersonal relationships with more depth and focus. But herein lies the brilliance of the world design in both games; in each, the dispersion of technology throughout the world is employed in a specific manner to help develop a central theme. Final Fantasy 7's world is afflicted with technology; it sprouts in cyst-like pockets, infecting otherwise peaceful rural areas as it spreads like a cancer. Final Fantasy 8's world thrives on technology; it is commonplace in the world's residents' everyday lives, and is often so overwhelmingly omnipresent that the story is compelled to retreat to the safety and familiarity of human interaction. The characters' relationships are the driving force behind Final Fantasy 8's story (and even, at the beginning of the game's climax, the means through which to survive space-time compression); the characters' discoveries about themselves and each other serve to facilitate the development of the most important plot element in the whole game: Squall, and his relationship with himself and with Rinoa.

Squall, the story's main protagonist, is anything but at the game's commencement. A surly, reserved, unwilling hero, he is the antithesis of the typical sword-for-hire. Driven by an unquenchable desire to excel in Balamb Garden's SeeD training program, his deliberately aloof nature marks him as somewhat of a mystery to his peers. Among his few friends is Quistis, his instructor and one year his senior. Despite their friendship, there is a vague underlying current of mutual contempt: Quistis struggles to maintain an authoritative position in Squall's life but, as an instructor, is jealous of his future as a SeeD; Squall resents Quistis for subtly attempting to lord her authority over him, but realizes that becoming contentious would work against him. It is not long before the inevitable inclusion of additional disrupters of Squall's lifestyle; as they are thrown into their first mission, Squall and Quistis meet Zell, whose irrepressibly ebullient personality suggests that there is more than just meat in those hot dogs he craves so much, and Selphie, whose infectiously effervescent attitude works in direct opposition to Squall's own introverted disposition. Just as Squall is making the necessary adjustments to cope with these unwanted intrusions, two more characters are thrown into the mix: Rinoa, an unrelenting optimist, and Irvine, a man whose outward projection of confidence sorely betrays his crippling insecurity. Far and away, the most important of these encounters is the one with Rinoa.

Squall's first meeting with Rinoa is a fleeting flurry of excitement entirely uncharacteristic of Squall. Thrust into a dance with Rinoa - a complete stranger - at a Balamb Garden banquet, Squall somehow overcomes his usual revilement of this sort of contact as her charmingly forward nature mesmerizes him. Unfortunately, the revelation for Squall is only a passing thought for Rinoa, as she quickly spots some friends and bids him a friendly farewell. Squall, left alone on the dance floor, is numbed by the experience.

By their next encounter in Timber, he is again in full control of his senses and more eager to ignore and dislike Rinoa than ever. After every repeated attempt to regain a connection with him, Rinoa is denied. However, as the course of the game's events play out, they become more and more dependent on one another. As she helps him to understand the emotions inside of him, he opens to her influence, and to her affection. Nearly every event in the game serves to develop their relationship: their second meeting in Timber, the disastrous conversation at the concert in Fisherman's Horizon, Squall's rescue of Rinoa at the Garden Battle, Edea's possession of Rinoa, Squall's mission into space to follow Rinoa, and the scene in the Ragnarok cockpit - the culmination of their history together. From that point on, the business about saving the world is incidental to Squall and Rinoa. Restoring peace to the Galbadian state and stopping Ultimecia from unleashing her time compression magic upon reality are merely subordinate to their love for one another. One might argue, in fact, that Squall's reason for fighting in the end is not because he believes in the world, but because he believes in Rinoa.

Final Fantasy 7's characters, conversely, are more incidental to the business of saving the world. That is not to trivialize the depth with which the characters are portrayed; on the contrary, each character in the main party has a deep history that is progressively revealed as the story goes on - in fact, Cloud, the story's main protagonist, has a background so deep and complicated that it takes until near the end of the game (and additional sidequesting) to piece together a solid framework for the basis of his character. But this kind of backstory-development is exactly what distinguishes the type of significance that each Final Fantasy's cast has throughout their respective games. Final Fantasy 8 does develop backstories for its characters, but they are fairly weak, and not particularly emphasized; five of the six main characters have the exact same orphanage-childhood backstory. Final Fantasy 8 favors the development of characters' stories in the present over the past. Final Fantasy 7 does just the opposite, to strengthen a different theme. As Final Fantasy 7's plot progresses, each character's history is expounded upon in growing detail to build each character's motivation for saving the planet. Barret knows the effects of Shin-Ra's planet-poisoning firsthand, having watched his hometown of Corel demolished in its wake. Red XIII has grown up with his grandfather Bugenhagen, who is one of the fiercest and most enlightened proponents of environmentalism on the planet. Yuffie's hometown was converted into a "joke" by Shin-Ra; after the Wutai-Shin-Ra war, Wutai became nothing more than a tourist attraction. And for Cloud and Tifa (whose forward relationship hardly grows beyond disc 1, instead growing in the opposite direction as they discover Cloud's true history together), more than anyone else, it is about vengeance; Sephiroth destroyed their hometown of Nibelheim, killed Aerith, and plans to bring Meteor into the planet.

And despite the fact that Sephiroth is Final Fantasy 7's primary antagonist, he is not at the core of the characters' motivations; that title is reserved solely for the Shin-Ra Corporation: the game's ultimate source of every single problem in the entire world. The motivation for the characters' personal struggles, the entity responsible for Sephiroth, and, most importantly, the reason for the blight slowly but surely overtaking the planet. In light of this fact, ultimately, every character serves only to provide a part of an aggregate force resisting the destruction of a healthy planet.

It is through these two distinctively different styles that the games are told that the ultimately unifying themes of each can be discerned: Life and Love. In Final Fantasy 7, the party struggles to rescue a world to restore an uncorrupted state and a pristine balance to the planet, in order to preserve life and ensure that it will continue. In Final Fantasy 8, the party struggles to rescue a world to restore an uncorrupted reality and a political balance to the planet, in order to preserve love and ensure that it will continue.

Nothing expresses these themes more lucidly than the epilogues of both games, following the credits. In Final Fantasy 7, following the credits, a short scene plays out in which Red XIII and - presumably - his children thunder through a canyon that leads to a cliff that overlooks the ruins of Midgar - 500 years later. The once-mighty city has fallen into utter ruin, and is entirely overgrown with a lush coat of vegetation. The final sight before the scene runs its course is a flock of geese soaring high above the ruins, signaling the survival of life. In Final Fantasy 8, following the credits, a short scene plays out in which Rinoa and Squall stand admiring the starry night sky, on a balcony overlooking the ocean. The couple shares a knowing glance, and, for the first time in the entire game, Squall allows an affectionate smile to pass from his lips. The final sight before the scene runs its course is the couple moving in to embrace and share a kiss, signaling the survival of love.

Though each game presents its plot in a unique fashion, the one constant is a beautifully crafted and executed story; a story whose message is a poignant reminder to the gamer of the most important aspects of humanity.